


Soldier of God

by KillTheDirector



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley is a tad freaked out, Crusades, Gen, M/M, Pre-Arrangement, Slightly Dark!Aziraphale, haha what is this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:18:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillTheDirector/pseuds/KillTheDirector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to think that at one point in time, Aziraphale was a hardened soldier of God.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soldier of God

**Author's Note:**

> To be completely honest, I have no idea where this came from...probably from reading too many Eagle of the Ninth fics buut also a desire to see some dark!Aziraphale.

The demon forgets at times that Aziraphale is ultimately a _soldier_. When he says this one night after they've gotten gloriously drunk, the angel lets out a bell like laugh into his wine glass. Crisp blue eyes are at half-mast, and a slightly crooked smile comes to Aziraphale's mouth while he twirls the stem of the glass between his fingers.

"I sometimes forget it myself, dear." He sounds wistful, and it's times like this that Crowley can remember the blood of infidels running down the angel's face and the blissed out expression he normally wore then. 

The demon swallows thickly, pouring himself more wine. Aziraphale is still looking at him with those eerily clear blue eyes (too clear for the amount of alcohol they've consumed); the crooked smile morphs into a soft one, and Crowley feels his shoulders relax. Aziraphale delicately lifts his glass and sips at his wine, lids fluttering closed and gold lashes splayed over flushed cheeks. "Angels are now nothing more than fat babies on greeting cards." He hums.

()()

They had sex once. Crowley doesn't ask Aziraphale if he remembers, he's quite sure the angel doesn't. Just as he claims that he doesn't remember the Crusades.

They had both been in Jerusalem, respective uniforms in tatters along with cuts marring every inch of their corporate bodies. Swords lain forgotten to one side while hands were down in each other's trousers, teeth clicking against one another as they harshly kissed. 

It had been messy, gritty and everything that discribed them at the time. They hissed their hate against each other's skin, groaned blasphemy, and silently begged for salvation.

Crowley still shudders when he remembers it.

()()

It's strange to think that Aziraphale morphed from a hardened soldier of God to what he is today; Crowley watches silently as Aziraphale attempts to speak nicely to his plants, snorting softly when the angel nearly kills one. 

"Do you remember the Spanish Inquisition?" Aziraphale mutters, stroking a leaf of a plant; it shivers, Crowley can see and he reminds himself to fix _that_ later.

"Hardly. I was drunk through half of it." He says, resting the back of his head against the posh black sofa. The angel hums, and the demon hears him plop down onto the couch. 

"You recieved a commemdation for it, didn't you?" Crowley cracks a eye open, and slides it to look at Aziraphale from the corner. The angel is looking at him evenly, tiny smile on his face and hands folded serenely in his lap.

"Er...yeah...why?" Aziraphale shrugs a shoulder daintily, leaning over to the coffee table where a good bottle of wine suddenly rests. He pours them both a glass, offering one to Crowley. The demon hesitantly takes it, remembering a time in Venice when the same tactic was used for a wine and holy water mix.

"That one was mine," The angel pouts into his glass; Crowley nearly chokes on his wine, instead he looks at the divine being with wide eyes. Aziraphale pats him on the shoulder, the action feeling like lead; he gives the demon a sunny smile, seeming not to have a care in the world. "Oh it's fine, dear. Pre-Arrangement days and all that, I'm not upset about it."

()()


End file.
